The Masquerade of the Butterflies
by Fingolfia
Summary: When Christine is invited to another Masquerade Ball in Paris, she doesn't know what she's getting herself into. In a thrilling tale of romance and fear, she must again fight to save the man she loves but this time the stakes are entirely different.
1. Default Chapter

I sat at the stately dining table, running my hand over the polished wood. The De Chagny mansion was so beautiful. I'd been living here for two years, ever since that fateful night under the Opera House, but I still marvelled at its size and grace. Briefly my thoughts strayed to him…but I wrenched them back. No point in dwelling on the past.

There was a gentle tap on the door and my darling Vicomte came in. Raoul was more mature and his blue-grey eyes more serious, but he was still the man I'd fallen in love with, had sung with and kissed on top of the Opera Populaire, and been prepared to give my life for under it… again I tore my thoughts back. All these years and I still thought of Erik, still wondered. But he was a murderer and a monster, so I turned to Raoul.

"Christine" he said apprehensively, and I was instantly alert. He only took this tone when he knew I wasn't going to like what he was asking.

I stood up abruptly "What?" then in a slightly sweeter tone, I added "Darling"

He gulped.

"I've been invited to a ball. I really must go, or the host might feel I was insulting him, but if you don't want to, I can say you're ill or something…"

He was talking very fast. I frowned.

"Raoul, I've been to hundreds of balls with you. Why should I mind?"

Wordlessly, he handed me the invitation. In curly writing on the front was inscribed

Mister Grenouille, Mayor of Paris, cordially invites you to the 'Masque de Paris' 


	2. Dancing

Hi. Soz my last chappie was so short but here's the next instalment. 

DISCLAIMER: I Do Not Own Phantom. I wish I did. I would treat Erik a lot better than that Christine.

There was some more waffle about time and location but I didn't read that as my hand flew to my breast, the piece of paper floating slowly to the floor. Collapsing back into my chair, I tried desperately to slow my frantic breathing Raoul sat down next to me, gently laying his hand over my other one, which I had slammed violently into the table. 

"Angel…" He began, and then bit his lip at the ill choice of word.

I fell against him, my curly head pressed against his shoulder. A tear began to prick in the corner of my eye as he put his arm around me.

"Shh," he crooned, holding me tightly. "You don't have to go."

"No," I sniffed. He looked taken aback. "I have to face up to my memories. Besides" I smiled weakly. "It can't be nearly as bad as last time, can it?"

But as our carriage pulled up outside the City hall, I was beginning to feel nervous. We'd decided to actually wear masks this time and so I pulled my feathery mirage over my face. I felt Raoul put his arm around me.

"You look stunning." He murmured through his golden mask. I gazed down at my new dress and had to admit he was probably right. Every time I turned the folds of lace billowed around me like a cream coloured cloud and the blue sash around my middle rustled softly to me.

"Anytime you want to leave, we can" Raoul was saying.

"Raoul" I chided. "I'm fine.

But really the butterflies in my stomach were fluttering hard, as if trying to escape my gorgeous dress. As we stepped through the vast gateway an attendant announced us to the thronging dancers, whirling each other around below. We slowly descended down the stairs.

Passing a waiter, Raoul handed me a glass of champagne.

"To freedom." He toasted. I sipped the glass in silence, my eyes drinking in the strange shapes. There were bulls and eagles, cats and fish. I felt slightly dazed, my mind misting over, until I thought I saw Meg or Carlotta swirling through the crowd.

Suddenly Raoul jerked me from my fantasies.

"Come" he said. "Shall we dance?"

How I loved him as he steered me into the dance floor. He was just the man I needed to bring me out of my dark past.

We danced for a while, then the change in music indicated that we were to switch partners. I didn't want to, but as we couldn't stop without breaking up the flow, I was forced to abandon Raoul to dance with a man in a bear-like mask.

After a few more dances with different partners, I began to feel more relaxed. I moved on again. This time I was caught by a man wearing a curiously plain mask, for it was blank white and, unlike most of the other masks, which only covered the top half of the face, this was complete, with only the tiniest slits for eye, nostril and mouth holes. I felt I should know him somehow but the music and champagne had made me light-headed and I was content to simply dance.

As we moved around the dance floor, he spoke to me. His voice was dark and sonorous, with a slight lilting quality.

"I am aware it is highly irregular for a masquerade, but may I inquire as to your name?"

I smiled "Vicomtessa de Chagny."

He almost froze in mid-step. Though he kept going, I could see he was deeply startled and his trembling hand gripped mine very tightly.

"Is something wrong?" I inquired, curious.

"And your first name?" he whispered huskily.

"Christine." I replied, disconcerted. I was about to ask why; when the music altered again and I was lifted away by a man whose face, behind his peacock mask, I was sure was a slightly drunken red.

The dance ended and I went to sit with Raoul, who offered me a second glass of champagne. I said nothing to him of the strange man but the event had deeply disturbed me.

"You seem somehow distracted, love" Raoul told me, concern in his voice. "Perhaps we should…"

"No" I said firmly, although my brain was screaming, run away, leave the stranger. But up until that point I had been having a good time and was determined not to let one slight mishap upset me.

Suddenly Mr Grenouille, the mayor, approached Raoul and exclaimed. "Vicomte! How nice to see you. Come, I have the most interesting shipping agreement to show you…" and steered my protesting husband off without another word.

I sat there, feeling very alone, as the music summoned everyone to the floor. It was a tune I knew involved no change of partner, so, if Raoul hurried back in time, we'd be able to dance together.

Someone tapped my bare shoulder. As I twisted in my seat, my mask dropped from my face and tumbled to the floor in a clump of feathers. Someone stooped to pick it up and I saw it was the man with the full mask. He handed it to me and I felt an electric thrill run up my arm as our fingers brushed.

"May I have this dance?" he asked.

It would have been rude to decline so reluctantly I dragged myself up. Hopefully this wouldn't last too long. He placed his arm around my waist and took my hand as we began the slow waltz.

"You don't remember me, do you?" he asked after a short silence.

"Should I?" I was confused, but a little frosty.

"Oh yes." He jerked me close to him, the iron grip pressing my body onto his and driving the wind from me. I started to struggle, but then he whispered in my ear, in the deep strong voice I knew so well.

"I am your angel of music."

! Uh oh! What will happen next? You'll have to wait for me to type it up! (I've already written loads on paper) But if you don't read and review, or if I don't get enough reviews, maybe I won't update! So r+r, please, I like to think my stories are appreciated!


	3. Escape?

Hello readers! Here's chapter three! It's the longest fanfic I've ever written. The other one I got bored of (Sorry to Anywien, who was reading that but I can't be bothered to write it any more. This one's too fun). The bit in paragraph 6 is my little revenge on Christine for being so horrible to Erik in his own opera. Don Juan is one of my favourite bits in the musical, but I think she was planning to take his mask off from when she started singing (in the film at least) and that's mean and scheming.

PS .RainsPhantom, badly is a word.

This simple sentence was like a bolt of lightening.

"Erik?" I exclaimed.

"The one and only," he replied with a little smile. Then the small amount of his face I could see snapped into icy blankness.

"Now, my dear, I do hope you're not going to spoil anyone else's perfect evening. Mister Grenouille will keep dear Raoul occupied while we catch up on things. "So," he said, his voice dangerously pleasant. "How has life been treating you two?"

"Not bad" I answered. To the casual observer, our conversation must have been just like two old friends meeting up after a long time.

Briefly I considered a repeat of my performance in 'Don Juan' but decided against it. When I had removed his mask before that crowd, the pain, the disbelief, the betrayal in his eyes I couldn't bare to take again.

"Have you, ah," his mouth curled at the corner, in an expression that couldn't decide if it was a smile or not. "Had any children yet?"

I was about to reply when he filled in the answer for me.

"No, of course you haven't." he said. "You're a very slim girl, Christine and in my experience, although, I must admit, I've never studied someone as closely before," and I felt his hand slide sinuously across my waist. "But from seeing them, I tend to find they go a bit, well, saggy after having babies. But you, you're as trim as ever. Dear, dear, what have you and that boy been doing? Or not as the case may be." I shuddered as his hand slid lower down me. "Oh, sorry. I see you are still not over fond of me."

"I hate you." I hissed at him. His mouth stayed in a straight line but his eyes glowed with pain. I'd hurt him but I didn't care. I could hear the music ending and I fled from his embrace. Behind me, I heard him call quietly.

"Good night, Christine."

I didn't answer.

"Raoul." I approached him quickly. "We need to go home." Then, seeing Mr Grenouille and his companions were looking curiously, I added in a faint voice. "I feel rather ill."

Raoul, bless him, asked me no further questions but quickly made his excuses and took me out. We attracted a few strange looks from some of the more sober guests but no one stopped us.

When we had clambered into the state carriage I flung myself, sobbing, against my poor Vicomte.

"Darling!" he said, startled. "What's wrong?"

"Oh Raoul!" I wailed. "Erik was there!"

I felt him stiffen. "What?"

"He was there." My heart was wrenching against my chest. "All this time, not knowing whether he was alive or if the mob had got him. And then he resurfaces. Oh my God, why? Why must I face this again?"

My mask was slick with damp tears and Raoul gently took it from my face. He pulled off his own and kissed me softly on the mouth. I felt myself melting under his hot touch, so different from Erik's seductive clutches.

"Oh Raoul," I murmured, pulling him closer.

We broke apart and he stroked my hair. Telling the driver to take us home, he held me tight. But as I took a last look at the City Hall, I saw a man in a blank white mask, watching us like a guardian angel, but fallen from grace.

I awoke that night to a strange hotness and an odd crackling noise. A searing red light was turning my closed lids red. My sleep-bleared eyes opened to a horrific scene. The bedroom was on fire!

"Raoul!" I screamed. He woke in an instant, flinging himself out of bed. I ran out the door, closely followed by Raoul. He overtook me, pulling open the door in the corridor to the stairs. But a gust of flame burst through the doorway, catching Raoul and engulfing him completely.

"RAOUL!" I cried. Smoke was flooding through my lungs and my vision began to blur. Collapsing to the ground, I lay at the mercy of the flames.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah! What will happen? I know but you don't Mwahahahaa! R+R if you want to find out!


	4. Hospital

Hehehe. New chapter. Soz if it took a while, I have limited computer access. In this chapter I have Christine beat Erik up because the one thing I don't like about Phantom is how wimpy Christine is. A few notes 4 my reviewers

Anywien: Keep reading please!

Kaiba-Queen: I do not have a huge ego!

RainsPhantom: Like I care if you're a bit illiterate! My two favourite words are mush and miff! (Oh, God, I just admitted to the world my two favourite words are miff and mush! Oh well, now the world knows I'm strange)

The rest of you I will mention soon, I just think you'd rather read the fanfic!

When I woke, everything was white.

"Am I dead?" I murmured.

"No, marm" A face swam above me.

I squinted. It became apparent that I was in some kind of hospital. Trying to prop myself up, I fell back with a gasp of pain.

"Easy, marm" the nurse said. "You've been badly burnt. Slept for days."

"Raoul…" I gasped. "Where is my husband?"

The nurse shifted uncomfortably. "Erm…"

I halted. A strange ringing was pounding through my head. "Where is he?"

"In the fire… the man pulled him out but it was too late."

"He's… My voice was choked with emotion. "Dead?"

The nurse nodded bitterly.

All the will seemed to drain from me. I slumped against the pillows, tears streaming down my face. But, through the haze of utter despair and loneliness, a spark of something pricked through.

"A man?"

"Oh, yes. "The nurse said. " He pulled you both out. Very brave man. Odd though. He was wearing a white mask. But there was some sort of fancy to-do at the city hall so he must have come from that."

Rage penetrated through my thick cloud of grief. Erik had burnt my house down. Erik had killed Raoul, finishing the job he'd started two years earlier. And now, I was determined not to surrender to him. I would have my revenge.

For the next few days I concentrated on getting stronger. It was hard work and I couldn't, in my weakened state, actually manage to get out of the door. All that I could do was get out of bed and stagger around the room a little.

My room itself was incredibly Spartan, with no mirror, or a dressing table and only a tiny wardrobe.

After my third day of desperate attempts I dropped into bed completely exhausted.

When I woke it was still dark. I lay there in quiet contemplation. Grief was about to flood me, when I suddenly realised what had woken me. The sound of heavy breathing, beside my bed.

Silently, I stretched out my hand to where I knew the light was. The intruder didn't hear me. I flicked the switch.

Erik, his mask in his hands, looked up at me. My curiosity was rewarded with a quick glance at his monstrosity of a face, before he yelped, tipping his chair over backwards with a crash.

I screamed with rage, throwing myself at him.

"You murderer!" I yelled, pinning him to the floor. "How can you even come near me after, after…"

Tears fell from my eyes but I held Erik down. He was struggling viciously but my injuries were forgotten in my blind fury. He hadn't put his mask back on and the human side of his face looked afraid and confused, but he was fighting back. I was beginning to tire, the burns around my body straining.

Suddenly Erik stopped struggling. He took my punches without flinching. Puzzled, my blows slackened. If he'd kept fighting, so would I, until I dropped, but with him taking it so calmly I couldn't.

"Christine…" he even sounded a little frightened. His fingers stretched out and brushed my face but in doing this he snatched me out of my halted frame of mind and, seizing his wrist, I slammed his hand against the floor. He gasped; obviously I'd put more force behind it than I'd meant to.

"How could you do that to Raoul?" I choked.

He frowned. "What did I do wrong?"

"You killed him!" I screeched, anger coursing through my veins.

""I swear, I had nothing to do with the fire." He pleaded, his eyes soulful.

"LIAR!" In my anger and sorrow, I struck him across the face. He winced, but kept on staring at me, one eye a normal, deep brown, the other set in a cluster of red swellings. The brownish lump on his right temple was even more prominent from this close up. "Why were you anywhere near me? You always hurt me. You've wrecked my perfect life again!"

He closed his eyes and turned his face away.

"Oh, Christine, I'm sorry. Just let me explain…"

"NO!" I'd heard enough. The fingers of my right hand closed on his throat. He grunted, long pianist's fingers tearing at mine. As he bucked wildly, trying to throw me off, I knew I was strangling him but I didn't care. In fact, I think I may have held on tighter. After a few minutes I felt his struggles start to subside, his eyes beginning to glaze over. A last wheeze escaped his mouth. "Please,"

I sat there, unsure if I should let go. The time it took seemed like an age to me and almost certainly to Erik, but it was probably only a few seconds.

I released him.

His head lolled back as he strived for air, his hand clutching the red mark I had made along his skin.

"Tell me whatever it was you wanted to" I said, uncompassionate.

"Christine, I truly did not torch your house. It's true I followed you home, but all I did was sit outside. When I saw the orange glow I knew it was a fire and rushed inside. You and Raoul were lying near each other. He was badly burnt but I carried you both out, even though I was almost certain that it was too late for the poor Vicomte."

"I don't believe you. The very way you talk about my beloved tells me so." I retorted. "You hated him."

"My feud against Raoul ended that night under the Opera Populaire." He said simply.

"Oh, beautiful Christine." And he stroked the tips of his fingers against my face again.

"Why do you keep doing that?" I said, exasperated.

He looked at me, his eyes shining wetly.

"Every night I've seen your face." He whispered. "Every day I've heard your voice. And now, oh, Christine." And he pushed himself up and grabbed me, pulling me down so our mouths met.

A fire ran though me and I wasn't sure whether it was anger, hate or love. All I know is I pulled away, scuttling back onto the hard hospital bed. He gazed at me, longing and yet remorseful.

"I'm sorry, Christine." He said, as if for lack of anything else to say, and then putting his mask back on, he left, the swish of his black cloak billowing through the hospital door.


End file.
